A Gillette Shaken, Not Stirred
by BlueberryPancakes
Summary: Utter fluff. Stars Gillette and Norrington.


A Gillette.

Shaken, not stirred

James snapped his head up at the sound of the tremendous splash. He rushed to the side, eyes darting around, scanning the wake for any signs of what had fallen.

A small, white, bubble rose to the surface. It lulled to the side and began to fray outward, briefly showing what had been a perfectly round curl.

"Andrew!" He yelled. In an instant, he had shed his coat, tossing it aside somewhere on deck, his shoes quickly followed suit.

"Commodore!" A voice came from behind him. "Sir!"

He paid it no mind and yanked off his own wig.

"Man overboard!" He yelled and grabbed hold of a line, before launching himself over the railing and diving overboard.

Suddenly he became aware of the water around him. He opened his eyes. They burned and he quickly snapped them shut. What had happened? His mind fogged.

James swam down, forcing himself to keep his eyes open as he searched for his friend. He couldn't have gone very far; though his vision was blurry the water was perfectly clear. He spotted a dark shape and started towards it.

Andrew began thrashing, mind not clear enough to know what was going on, allowing panic to set in. He needed to breathe. Something closed around him, pulling him down. He fought against it frantically, trying to swim for the surface.

James had not expected Andrew to put up such a fight. He tightened his arms around the other man and pushed as hard as he could off the bottom, swimming hard and using the line.

A crowd of crew had gathered at the ship's railings to see what the commotion was about. A few gathered around the now taut line and begun to draw it up.

Andrew gasped and coughed violently as soon as his head broke the surface, his arms flailing about as he tried to reorient himself.

James held on tight, clinging to the rope. "Bring us up!" He choked out, voice gruff and not nearly as loud as he had intended. As soon as they had been lowered down onto the deck, he shook off the excess water and turned to Andrew. He quickly pushed the other man onto his back.

Andrew coughed and gasped, arms falling limply to his sides, exhausted from the struggle and sudden shock.

"Andrew, Andrew can you hear me?" James asked, near frantic. He pushed the rogue locks of his red hair away from his face.

Andrew opened his eyes slowly, looking up sluggishly. He coughed, water dribbling from his mouth. He gagged, his body jerking upwards.

"Help him sit up!" James ordered, sliding a hand behind his back and bringing him forward.

Andrew coughed again, but slowly, not bringing up any more water. He raised his head weakly, "James?" He muttered hoarsely.

"Andrew…" James craned his neck, looking down at him, "Andrew, are you all right?"

Andrew stared at him for a moment. His body convulsed and he pitched forward, promptly emptying the contents of his stomach down James's shirt.

James remained completely still. A low rumble of laughter erupted from the men.

"One of you fetch some water. The rest of you- back to your posts."

"Oh, god… James… 'orry." Andrew coughed, grimacing. He bowed his head and let the hacking come, not raising his head until he was sure there nothing else to come up.

"It's all right." James forced a smile, "I've held my nephew before. The results were similar."

Andrew groaned, already flushed skin coloring even deeper, nearly matching his hair. He hung his head.

"Here, some water." James took the cup and sent the young sailor away, passing it to Andrew. He waited until he had finished before speaking again, "Come, the day is done for us. I'll take you home, so we can both have a change of clothes and something warm to eat." He stood slowly and extended his hand, helping the other to his feet.

Andrew leaned against him, long past the point of preserving what little was left of his dignity. He was exhausted.

James ignored the strange stares they received on their way up to his home. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of what they might look like. The Commodore and his lieutenant, soaking wet, stumbling and holding onto each other, both wigless, one shoeless, with watery vomit down the front of his shirt. In the middle of the day, no less.

"What happened, Andrew?" He asked, finally, after they had nearly reached the house.

Andrew groaned, "I knew you were going to ask me that."

"It's not everyday your Lieutenant falls overboard… while the ship is docked, in home port." James stifled his laugher, for the moment. If it had been something serious, he wanted to get it out of Andrew before he closed himself off in his stubborn way.

Andrew sighed heavily. He leaned against the wall as James opened the door for them. He looked around, cautiously making sure there were no servants within earshot. "Something startled me and I tripped. I must have hit the railing just right, because I don't even remember falling, just suddenly being underwater and not knowing why."

James's dark brow furrowed, "What startled you?"

Andrew hung his head again. "It was nothing, really. That part's not important. It was a one-time incident."

"One-time incident or not, it happened. Now what startled you? Tell me, or I shan't give you a change of clothes."

"My own home isn't that far away. I can make it."

"You know you're not leaving here like you are. What kind of Commodore would I be, if I let one of my men stumble home after what happened?"

Andrew sighed heavily. He smoothed his hair back from his face, wiping the excess water away. "It was a rat."

"A what?"

"A rat. It scurried out from underneath some coiled ropes and I didn't see what it was at first. I back-stepped and lost my balance, and fell over."

James didn't say anything for a moment. "A rat?" He said slowly, carefully.

Andrew nodded once. "Disgusting buggers."

"You fell overboard because you saw a rat?"

"I didn't know what it was!" Andrew shot back, "All of sudden there was something big and black coming at me!"

James's face contorted and he burst out into laughter.

"It's not funny!" Andrew whined, his face pained, "I almost drowned."

"Lieutenant Andrew K. Gillette… afraid of a rat!"

"I wasn't afraid of it! It startled me! There's a difference." Andrew's voice faded into a low whine.

James clutched at his sides as he buckled over.

"It's not funny." Andrew pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, no Andrew, you're right…" James sobered for a moment, he looked back up, to Andrew's eyes, "It's hilarious!" He dissolved into the wall once again. "You realize you're never going to live this one down, right?"

"You are _not_ nice, James Norrington."

"You've never let Theodore live down the time he slipped on the stairs at the Governor's party and fell flat on his face in front of the entire crowd."

"That was different."

"Oh was it? And how, pray tell, do you think so, dear Andrew?"

"It was… he was… he didn't… It was just different, James!"

"You know you look some fifteen years younger when you pout like that. I wonder how your mother put up with you. Though, I have to admit, it is a rather cute look."

Andrew glowered.

"How did you know it was me, that fell?" He asked, finally.

"You were the only officer on board. The only one with a white wig, anyway."

"Oh."

The silence fell again.

"Are you sure you're all right? You did have quite a stir." James asked, genuinely sympathetic.

Andrew stared darkly at him. "I'm shaken. Not stirred."

Author's Note:

So, this was inspired by this: 

Author's Note:

This was inspired by this: 


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